


Outsiders

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 18:25:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14795646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: On a solo trip to the pub, Chief ponders the harsh reality of always being an outsider, never belonging.  When trouble arises, he has the opportunity to reconsider, and finds out he's perhaps been letting the grim past overshadow the present, that maybe he's not such an outsider after all.





	Outsiders

{"It shouldn't have been a problem"}, Chief thought to himself. The Warden had sent him to The Doves to pick up a package to be dropped off there by one of their contacts. He had been the one selected since Garrison had figured he'd be the one least likely to get into trouble going in alone, and they had eyes on them at the Mansion and the Cottage right now, with that new Colonel Davies sneaking around trying to cause problems.

{"Well, that worked out just fine, didn't it?"} He hadn't even noticed them much when he went in thru the door and down the stairs, just another group seating themselves around a table for four in the middle of the room; they weren't who he was waiting to meet, so he pretty well ignored them; by their clothes, he figured they belonged to that fancy car outside; just daytrippers passing through. He grabbed a beer at the bar, starting toward a small table along the wall, to try and blend in, to wait for the messenger to arrive.

Blending in wasn't easy; he was an outsider, he knew, he and the guys all were; they were tolerated, but they didn't really belong. He knew, he didn't really belong anywhere; he'd gotten used to that, told himself he didn't need to belong anywhere, that being an outsider, well that's just what he was, what he'd always be.

He passed by their table, moving close behind them due to the closeness of the tables, murmuring an apology when one of the chairs had scooted back to bump into him. Wasn't his fault, but it seemed the thing to do, especially with the glare he got from the woman seated at the table, and he wasn't looking for trouble, just wanted to get the job done and get back. There was no reason to expect any trouble; if there had been, the Warden wouldn't have sent him alone.

When the small stir of voices started, he heard the change in tone, and he turned his attention away from the entrance on the landing above, back to the smoky room. People were starting to look at him now, there were frowns where there shouldn't have been, puzzled looks from some of the locals he was comfortable with, a concerned look on the face of the bartender, who turned and picked up the phone. The four at the table he'd passed earlier were glaring at him, the men muttering to each other, the woman pinch-lipped and flushed. The muttering had spread to some of the locals now, and he was getting a feeling he was in trouble here, though he hadn't an idea why. He wished the contact would hurry and get here, get this over with, let him get back to the Mansion; he figured the Warden might have been a bit overly optimistic about his ability to stay out of trouble. 

His contact came through the door just then, just as he'd been described, medium height, dark hair with more than a touch of auburn in it. Their eyes met and Chief got up to leave, figuring to get the packet handed off to him as they passed on the stairs. That wasn't going to happen.

As he got up, so did the three men at the table where all the focus was now on, the woman looking on with a strange look on her face, almost of excitement; he saw her lick her lips a bit, as if in anticipation. A few locals stood as well, ones he didn't know, more than that he'd seen them around before; there was no aggression in their stance, though, more uncertainty. The three visitors were between him and the stairs, and they moved to block him when he started toward them.

He frowned, "there a problem?" he asked in a quiet, calm voice, to be met with belligerent voices telling him there certainly was! That they didn't know what the villagers were willing to tolerate, but they weren't going to put up with his rudeness, his arrogance! How dare he say something like that to a lady?! Where they came from, he'd have been horsewhipped for something like that, if not worse! His kind needed to be taught a lesson, a lesson it seems was well overdue. He listened as they urged the locals to action; he focused on the contact, knowing he had to make the pickup quickly and move on.

He frowned heavily now, "never said nothin' to the lady at all!"and started to push past them, only to be shoved back. 

Old Howie let out a yell, "Eh, stop that now! Tha lad's done nothing to you, you just leave him be!" and Lou the bartender seconded him.

One of the strangers barked at the old man, "you keep out of this! Don't know why you're interfering anyway, you old souse! And you, you just hand out the beer, leave the rest to others who know better what's due a lady!"

The locals studied the scene, more of them starting to edge toward Chief, not in a threatening manner, more like in support, ranging at his back. The visitors were frowning now; this was obviously not what they expected. They'd heard who he was, who all those men up at that big house were; they were outsiders, he was an outsider, an obvious target, one they could get the locals roused up against.

The newcomer, now halfway down the stairs, gave a loud and disgusted laugh, drawing everyone's attention. "I've heard of your games; I hadn't thought you'd made it this far south yet. It doesn't look like you'll get much support here, it seems you made a mistake in your choosing this time, doesn't it," he said with a mocking smile.

He looked over at the locals, some uncertain, but most now to the sides and back of the dark young man, their faces showing just where they stood against these outsiders. As Old Howie had said on another occasion, "they be one of us now, don't they" and it seemed that had resounded with the local populace. Certainly, they seemed inclined to take his word over these four strangers.

Chief felt bewildered; he wasn't used to being considered someone valued enough to defend, except by the Warden and the guys, and of course, Meghada, who had seemed to have adopted the whole lot of them. Taking on Goniff, she just seemed to think they came with the territory, and was quite content for that to be so. But her, she was a law unto herself, and he didn't try understanding her, just accepted her as she was. This though, the villagers, them backing him, this was a strange feeling, one he wasn't sure he could trust, but there was a warmth that he knew he wanted to be real. 

The young man on the stairs, paused and lit a cigarette, taking time to inhale and blow out the smoke. Jerking his chin at the three men, the woman in her fancy clothes.

"They've been making the rounds of some of the villages, playing their little game. They find someone they think won't be supported, and find a way, usually through the 'lady', to rouse the villagers against him." His face went hard and grim, "there's been serious injuries, at least one death, and in the end, it's the villagers left to deal with any consequences, to answer any charges, the ones who caused it piled into their fancy cars and long since gone. These aren't the only ones, there are a few more who play the game, fancy people from the city, thinking to pull the wool over the 'simple folk', having their fun, laughing and running to play it out all over again somewhere else." He knowingly played all the cards at his disposal, all that would sway them even further; unfortunately, what he was telling them was all the truth.

He smiled sincerely down at the locals and at Chief, "I'm pleased to see that you are all too smart for them, that you stick up for your own."

In the end, the visitors were sent on their way, all except the woman well bruised and bloodied, and her with curses a plenty leveled against her, and her fancy clothing well marred with spit and beer. The stranger stood the patrons to a round from the bar, and around that time, the Warden and the guys arrived, hastily summoned by the call from the bartender to the Mansion. They'd been on the firing range, so it took a bit to get the message to them, but they'd come in a jeep passing all speeding limits.

They came in at a rush, paused at the head of the steps, expecting a brawl or worse, fearing for their man, seeing instead the happy, milling crowd below, spotting their man and the contact in the center of that loudly approving, self-congratulating crowd.

Garrison moved up behind them, his murmured words, "thought you were supposed to make this a discreet meeting?" accepted with a rueful shake of the head, only to have him and the rest of the team pulled to the big round table to hear the story first-hand. Looking around, Garrison could see no one was making any more of this than a happy chance encounter, so all was still good.

Chief was even quieter than usual, and eventually, after the beer had made a few rounds, his eyes still downcast to the table top, he told of how he thought he was alone, how he thought they'd all gang up on him, and how, instead, they'd gathered behind him, all but a few who were uncertain, but even those had not joined the outsiders.

He raised his eyes to the contact, nodding his thanks to him, and Ian, younger brother to Meghada, twin to Ciena, raised his glass in response, with a sincere lopsided grin, "hey, what's Family for, brother?? Big Sister and the others would never have forgiven me, and the parents?! They'd have had a right fit, the both of them! I don't even want to think on that!"

But Chief did think on that, then and later that night, and through the coming days - the village coming to his defense, the Warden and the guys rushing to help, and being called brother by the young man, himself brother to the woman who had taken their blond thief to her heart. For someone who thought he had no one, belonged nowhere, this was a lot to think on.


End file.
